


(It All) came crashing down while we slept

by ReignPain



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 19th Century, Fire, Homelessness, Sacrifice, Smalls' Blanket Bundle TM
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18555994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReignPain/pseuds/ReignPain
Summary: The fire destroyed everything.The survivors searched for their lost friends for days, little did they know the dead had survived too.





	1. Chapter 1

“Fire!” 

The call was distant but Crutchie’s eyes snapped open right away. Sweat dripped down his brow and tears involuntarily fell as the heavy smoke stung his eyes. Looking around, the blond could barely tell which level of the lodging house he was on, he couldn’t even remember falling asleep. The room was seemingly vacant other than ash and flames, the blackened frames of six or seven bunk beds were crumbling apart, seeing as the roof was nearly gone, he knew in the back of his mind the floor would probably be next. Somewhere downstairs screaming could be heard among the crackling. Coming to his senses, Crutchie gasped and reached for his crutch only to grasp open air, it was pretty much kindling in this wood pile. Crutch gone, sense of direction lost, the boy persevered. He had to find whoever was screaming, even if it was the last thing he’d do. 

“Who’s still in there?” Jack gasped running over the first person he could see. 

“I - I don’t know. Race just ran back in looking for someone I think,” Smalls said from where she was huddled in a blanket between Henry and Sniper. Jack nodded before grabbing another sprinting form before it could reach the burning building. 

“Where do you think you’s going?” He practically screamed.

Mike struggled against the older boy’s grip. “My brother’s in dere! Let me… Lemme go!” the boy cried, his fighting growing weaker. “I gotta find Ike… please…” Jack winced as Mike collapsed against him, his face flushed and sooty. 

Jack let out a shuddering breath as he added Mike to Small’s bundle of blankets. It was freezing outside despite the heat waves coming off the blazing lodging house. He had to do a headcount, he had to get Race and the other boys out, he had to do _so many_ things. After a minute of consideration, Jack ran in.

Race cried out as his body once again collided with the splintering floor. Staggering onto his feet, the blond grimaced, his wrist was charred and blistering. The pain that was almost unbearable was quickly forgotten as he spotted Jojo near the back wall on his knees. He ran over without a second thought. Narrowly missing a falling beam, he pulled a coughing Jojo onto his back and listened for anyone else that didn’t quite make it out. A high pitched scream echoed from the second floor. As he hastily wiped his running nose, Race couldn’t help but imagine one of the Littles trapped beneath a flaming block of wood screaming for someone, anyone to save them from the inevitable fate of being burned alive by this devastating fire only for no one to come- 

“We need to get outta here, Racer,” Jojo mumbled. But no, Race had to get up there fast. Too bad his lungs couldn’t take it anymore. His vision swam and warped as his lungs swelled from inflammation, blocking off airways and preventing the flow of contaminated oxygen to the rest of his body- he was dying. He was really dying The blond stumbled, desperate to keep him and Jojo off the ground and away from danger. He gasped as the weight was taken off his back and as a hand wrapped around his bicep before he could fall. His last thought was of Heaven before everything went black. 

Crutchie groaned as he pulled himself along the floor. Splinters cut through his ripped clothing and embedded themselves into his skin. The fire was spreading, burning everything the boy had ever really known into nothing. His ears perked up as whimpering sounded from the door he was nearing. “Finch? Is that you?” Crutchie almost sighed in relief when Finch poked his head into the room. 

“Crutch, what are ya still doing here? This whole place is about to come down.” 

“Well then I guess we’se gonna go down with it.” 

What they didn’t know however, was the amount of boys still trapped in the lodging house. 

“Eight. We’re missing eight boys,” Jack told Specs as the sound of bells and galloping drew near. “Crutchie… We’re missing Crutchie!” He realized, readying himself to run back in only to be stopped. Whirling around, Jack came face to face with volunteer fireman. “What the hell took you so long?” 

“Calm down, son,” the man said, leaving Jack to watch as the firemen pushed boys away and pumped water from a nearby hydrant while their horses whinnied at the wild flames. They newsboys watched in horror as the structure collapsed on itself upon extinguishing, leaving it with nothing but barebones. 

Gone. It was just… gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold: an overdue and much too short chapter 
> 
> Endgame has damaged me mentally but I hope to begin recovery soon :)
> 
> More to come soon-  
> Hope you enjoy!

Race woke up on a foreign firescape and cursed.

Crutchie woke up in a pile of ash and cried.

It wasn’t even daylight out, the morning bell had yet to ring. The smell of smoke, a once comforting scent for Race, lingered on clothing and in the air. It was haunting. 

The first thing Crutchie saw, really saw, was Finch’s limp form not too far away. Averting his eyes, the blond began to give himself an examination. He let out a sigh of relief when his left leg, toes up to his hip, moved freely without pain. His right leg however, was filled with a stabbing pain rather than the usual numb tingling. Okay. That was fine. He then moved on to his fingers, clenching and unclenching fists and counting how many knuckles he could bend. Gingerly touching his head, Crutchie smiled when he felt no pain nor any blood. Small accomplishments were the greatest to achieve. 

Now for the next problem. Crutchie carefully rolled onto his stomach and dragged himself a few long feet to where his friend lay. He reached over with a groan and felt around Finch’s wrist desperately for a pulse. “C’mon…” he whispered, voice gruff. It felt like an eternity before a subtle heartbeat reached his fingertips. Now, now he could rest. 

Race sat up, ignoring the aching in his head and the groans from his body. The only thing he recognized was Jojo, sprawled out next to him wheezing slightly. Where was he? Oh. That’s right. The events of the night before were flying at him at a hundred miles an hour. Fire. Screaming. Crying.

“We need to get outta here, Racer.” 

“Where’re we gonna sleep?”

“J’ist find a place and pray to someone you don’t wake up in the Refuge.”

Damn.  
It was only twilight, but Race doubted anyone, especially their leader, was sleeping, at least not peacefully. The blond racked his brain for every face he saw outside in the cold. It wasn’t easy as he was in and out all night, but most people returned to their homes when they realized it was the Newsboy Lodging House on fire and not something important so they were the only ones in the street. 

Specs, Henry, Jack… Who else? “I give up,” he moaned into the brisk air, flinching only slightly at the volume of it. He decided to direct his thought to the whereabouts of the others. Jack was probably hiding in the theatre, the littles huddled together on a park bench. Some of them had apartments with real families to run home to. That still left a large group of boys, God, he hoped they were okay. 

His body was telling him to sleep, sleep and the pain would go away. Sleep and everything will be okay- but no. How could he let go and sleep when Jojo was next to him breathing through a straw? And Race didn’t even want to look at his arm, the pain was radiating from his right arm to his left in waves. Breathe, just breathe. In for three, out for four. That was something Crutchie taught him for when his mind was racing and everything was going wrong. In three, out four. 

Romeo let out a choked sob when he woke up. Whether it was from relief or disappointment, he didn’t know. He couldn’t speak a word or even a whimper as he wasted his voice the night before screaming from the moment he opened his eyes. He guessed no one heard him, and no one would hear him now either. 

He wondered what time it was. 

They wondered where Jack was. 

Specs glanced anxiously at Jacobi’s wall clock. Half past eight, Jack became late twenty minutes ago. Boys filled every table, nursing themselves, each other, relishing their water. The bespectacled boy sighed before doing another headcount.  
The wounds from the previous night were still painfully fresh on his mind as well as everyone else’s. None of Manhattan’s newly presented Birds had seen or heard word of seven boys.  
Why were there less boys than before? Oh right, Mush and Blink had yet to return from retrieving Race and Jojo from what ever fire escape they collapsed on.

Specs sighed in relief as the front door swung open to reveal a particularly panicked looking Jojo balanced on Mush’s back, followed by Racetrack slung between Jack and Blink, his shadowed face held no emotion other than a hint of pain and anger, something not normally present on the blond’s face. Mush and Jojo moved to an open booth while the other two put Race in a chair. 

“I didn’ need your help,” he muttered, rubbing at a raw and blistering arm.

“Sure you didn’t,” Blink agreed, forcing a mournful smile.


	3. Chapter 3

Dozens of eyes turned to where Jack stood on the center-most table. Few caught the way his face paled upon seeing all of the faces, either panicked or unfazed, peering up at him.   
“Fellas,” he started slowly, not knowing what else to say. The boys were hard, having lived on the streets most, if not all, of their lives, whatever families they have are in poverty, surviving off their children’s earnings. “Sell today, but only if you can, I’m looking at you Race. Then we’ll… we’ll look through the ashes. Keep an eye out for those who aren’t here right now; Finch… Ike… Crut - Crutchie. The distribution center should still be open, I’ll see you’se later I guess,” with that, Jack climbed down from the table and turned away from the disbelieving faces. 

“That’s it?” hissed Specs, “Tell them to suck it up and look for bodies?” 

Jack glared at him through irritated eyes. “You don’t understand, Specs-” He was on the edge of yelling.

“You’re sick, Kelly. Sick,” Specs spat, following the newsboy’s retreating forms. 

“Crutch...Crutchie!” 

Crutchie gasped awake, sweat making clear tracks down his sooty face. 

“You were ‘aving a nightmare.” The crip looked to his left to see a shadowy figure leaning against some rubble.  
“Finch?” he croaked. The figure moved further into view, feeling the blond for injuries.   
“I’m here.” Crutchie’s face broke into a smile, and then into a laugh.   
“You’re here.”

Finch too, smiled before returning to seriousness. “I heard something, or someone. But I didn’t want to leave you. We’re still above the first floor, no one’s come lookin’ for us yet. It could be one of the boys.”   
“Go,” Crutchie said, “I want to sleep a few more minutes.”   
Finch nodded hesitantly before stumbling away. 

They turned out to be on the third floor. Finch held his breath for every step that he took down the skeletal stairs. The second floor was deserted, or he assumed. The sunlight was blocked by the buildings around them so he could be, but he hoped not, wrong. “Hello?” He called as he reached the ground floor, only starving his throat more of water. The sound didn’t travel far as it got absorbed by the splintering wood surrounding him. “Anyone?” he asked before resorting to one of his many talents, whistling. 

A rustling caught his ear. “Who’s there?” he rasped, trying to sound brave. _(I can be brave, mother! Leave me alone, let me help!)_ “I know you’re here!” 

“It’s…. Ro - Romeo,” a small voice whimpered. Finch gasped.

“Ro?” He ran to where he heard the voice, stumbling over object burnt beyond recognition. He tried not to think about how many could be bones. “Ro!” he yelled, falling to his knees beside the boy. 

“‘M okay,” He said between coughs.   
“‘Course you are,” replied Finch, brushing the dark hair away from Romeo’s eyes. “C’mon, let’s go ge-” he was interrupted by the sound of bells. His first thought was of the bulls, preparing to go through the ashes. but …

_The cops don’t care about a bunch of kids._

“Snyder…” he breathed. Finch looked into Romeo’s tear filled eyes and grabbed. “We gotta go.”  
Romeo shook his head, tears now streaming. “I - I can’t.” 

Finch pulled the younger boy onto his back. “Not without help.” So they ran.

“I can sell!” Race yelled, biting his lip while Mush bound his arm. “I want to help!” They sat in the upper wings of Medda’s theatre using what ever first aid materials they could on they burns and laughing at the thought of hospitals. Jojo and Blink went ahead and bought the smallest amount of papers they could while still making a profit. Smalls waited with the other hurt newsies for Mush to leave before convincing Race to stay, his stubbornness only made their troubles more complicated.

“You need to stay, Racer. We can handle it,” Mush assured distractedly. 

“N- no! I’m fine!” his statement was finished with a coughing fit, black saliva dripped down his chin.

“Get some rest, I’ll keep you updated, promise.”

“But-” _“Racetrack.”_ Race’s mouth snapped shut, watching silently as Mush stalked out of the room. “Just stay put, please.”

Race sighed. Their home was gone, friends were missing, and his medicine was kicking in. Finally, he just closed his eyes to dream of the day before yesterday. Peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter felt rushed! I was watching Lord of the Rings while watching this and you can totally tell lmao


	4. Chapter 4

It was a fire. A wretched fire that killed his mom. Albert shook his head. _Don't think about that._  
But it was still a fire, a fire that provoked his dad into kicking him out, separating the redhead from his brothers. At least he still had his job and his... friends. Albert shot up, oblivious to his surroundings. His job! The sun was already beginning to shine between the buildings, oh, why didn’t anybody wake him up? 

Staggering to his feet, Albert briefly wondered when he ended up on the floor, and why no amount of blinking could clear his blurry vision. When his head hit the ceiling, he frowned before realizing that there was half a wall teepeed over his head. _Jesus Christ._ Glancing around at the blurred ruins, Albert’s glossy eyes landed on a white and black stick buried in some ash. 

There was no one to hear his scream. 

“J’ist a few more steps, Rome,” Finch breathed, hand hovering behind the younger boy’s back. “Step lightly.” 

__“I don’t think these stairs’ll last that long,” Romeo said, poking the step with his toe and wincing as the wood sighed.  
“It will last till we can get Crutchie.” _ _

__

And it did. As soon as they stepped onto the third floor landing, Finch picked up Romeo and ran across the dangerously creaky floor to where Crutchie sat with his back pressed against the wall, clutching his gimp leg as though his life depended on it. “M’ crutch is gone,” he mumbled as the two approached. 

Finch frowned and set Romeo against the same wall, flinching as the kid gasped and gasped for breath. “You surely didn’t just realize that…” 

Crutchie didn’t appear to hear him as he began to rock slightly, looking manic with his darkened features. “Can’t get no where without that crutch.” 

For a moment, Finch was convinced that his friend _(brother, he didn't have a blood brother)_ was dying, already long gone from whatever fresh hell they’d been emitted to. That horrifying feeling was forgotten as he yelled, “Crutchie!” ignoring the way Romeo recoiled as Finch’s left foot, right arm raised an inch, maybe more.  
In one breathless second Crutchie’s head snapped up and toward Finch’s heaving form.

His moment of craziness also forgotten, Crutchie shot to his feet as well as he could. “Did you hear that?” he asked, adrenaline pumping 

Romeo strained his ears until he heard it too, a quiet sob coming from someplace below them. The youngest turned his aged gaze to where Finch was visibly relaxing. “I didn’ see anyone downstairs?” 

Finch tugged Romeo to his feet and pulled Crutchie onto his back, a weirdly emotionless look on his face. “We should go,” he mumbled. The brunet nodded absentmindedly, trying to meet the crip’s tired gaze before trailing to two towards the crisp exit with one thought on his mind. Crutchie had yet to notice him. 

Walking down Duane street felt like walking down death row. Given, Jack had never been on death row (though the similarities between that and the refuge were uncanny) but none of that mattered. Almost a hundred, maybe more kids were homeless. Of course, a good half of those kids had a cozy alleyway, or even a house to go home to, but others didn’t. Jack had the theatre, he had _Medda._ And something inside him flared up with hate when the idea of bringing some of the boys came to mind. God, he loved them to death but Medda’s theatre was his home away from home, he couldn’t just give that away. 

Brushing his thoughts aside, Jack stopped in front of what was once the lodging house entrance. His eyes wandered across the flame-licked wood, taking in the damage that was done, it was a miracle the building was still standing. “Hey, Jack,” Blink said, coming to stand beside the other boy. Specs nodded curtly. _Still mad._ Jack decided, turning to greet Blink and wait for the others. There was no way in hell he’d be going in there alone. 

It took well over twenty minutes (the kindly shop owner up the road let them know) for some of Jack’s (surviving) close friends to come begrudgingly down the street. Now, the leader decided, now they could search. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Hope y'all enjoyed
> 
> IMPORTANT: when should I set this story?  
> 1\. Before the strike   
> 2\. After the strike  
> Or 3. AU where the strike never happened  
> Let me know please!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I think I'm gonna turn this into multi chapter fic? 
> 
> comments give me joy :)


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